Crusade ch5
Snyder was already at his command seat by the time the first crewmembers started to file in one at a time. Snyder had taken only a brief time to go to his quarters to take a quick sonic shower and change into a new uniform before he went back to the bridge. He had already begun to get the feeling for the ship, how it looked, sounded and felt beneath him. He still hadn't checked out his ready room, which was, thankfully, only a short walk from his seat. All in all, Snyder was making himself feel quite at home on this ship. Sure, after spending a few years on a large orbital station, a ship could feel a little cramped, but Snyder was sure he could get used to it.
The turbolift door to Snyder's left opened with a hiss, which startled him for a second. He looked up to see Ensign Norman slowly walking into the bridge, taking in everything he could at a slow pace. His lips were parted in a huge, impish grin only someone so young could accomplish. The ensign stopped only for a moment to look for his console, which, if anything, made him even more excited. Norman walked up to it as if it were a religious altar, slowly and carefully, lest he mar it in some way.
The captain gave the young man a brief moment of indulgence; after all, this was the first starship the boy had probably ever been aboard. Snyder smiled to himself, he had probably acted the exact same way when he first set foot on a ship, maybe even more so.
When Snyder saw that Norman was only sitting at the small bench behind his console, he decided to break the silence, "Are you just going to will your console to life, ensign?"
Norman looked up in surprise. The poor kid probably hadn't seen him sitting in the center seat. "Uh, no, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Don't worry about it. Just make sure you don't accidentally blow us up with a wrong keystroke." The kid froze with a look of absolute horror on his face. Maybe Snyder had crossed some line? He'd better repair the damage fast.
"That was a joke, ensign."
Norman looked up long enough for Snyder to see the horrified look melt into one of uncomfortable humor, which quickly became one of concentration as the tactical console came to life with a faint whine.
"Tactical station reports ready for departure, sir." Norman said as if reading a script for the first time.
"Thank you, ensign." Snyder said just as the turbolift doors opened once again to permit Ulysses' helmsman onto the bridge. Snyder recognized her instantly, Lieutenant Maria Gonzales. She was a woman of relatively short stature, but made up for it in sheer presence. Her radiant disposition, as well as damn good piloting skills, made her somewhat of a much sought-after officer in the fleet. Starfleet needed people more like her every day, if only to lighten a mood still darkened by the horrors of war.
"Good morning, Captain." The lieutenant smiled before heading toward the navigation station just in front of the command seat. Snyder smiled back and offered his own acknowledgment, as well as young Norman.
"Navigation reports ready to depart at Captain's discretion." The officer said with an air of such professionalism that Snyder could only smile at.
"Thank you, navigation."
The other crewmembers filed onto the bridge in short order. Soon, the ops station, sciences, as well as the engineering link were manned by excited crewmembers all ready to begin their new mission.
When Snyder was sure everyone was accounted for, he pushed the button for the shipwide comm., and began to speak.
"All hands, this is the Captain. If you haven't already, report to your duty station, as we are about to depart on our new mission." Snyder thought he could hear the ship itself hum with excitement at those words, as if it were a living being itself. But he was just abandoning himself to flights of the imagination. The ship was just humming with nothing more than normal power fluctuations and regulations; it was the crew that was ready.
"Take us out, Lieutenant Gonzales." Snyder said with a tone much less dignified than what he would have liked, "Once we reach the edge of the solar system, se course for Starbase Seven at warp factor three."
"Aye, sir." Came the response from the nav. Console.
Outside of the hull of the great ships, a few straggling work bees were suddenly caught in a small shockwave as the thrusters of the great ship Ulysses began to slowly move out of its dock. The few umbilical lines that had been transferring fuel and other supplies snapped themselves off the ship just before they would have been pulled away from their housings.
Ulysses surged forward on her own power, slowly gaining speed as her impulse reactors came online, feeding power to the massive sublight engines. When she was clear from spacedock, Ulysses shot forward like a photon torpedo from mars, out toward Jupiter and Saturn at tremendous velocities.
Snyder stared in wonder at the sight before him. Stars at a distance seeming to whiz by, while the huge planets just before him loomed with huge girths, only to slip by as if they had only missed contact by a scant few meters. If anything, Snyder felt...giddy.
"Approaching Sol system boundary, preparing to engage warp." Said Gonzales in her business-like manner.
"Engineering, this is the bridge, are the engines prepared for warp travel?" Snyder asked over the comm.
The voice of Commander Denning replied with a tone of good humor and expectation, "Everything's ready to go, sir. Just give the word."
"Commander Denning, Lieutenant Gonzales, the word is given."
As both people, one on the bridge, one down in engineering, worked in tandem to bring the warp engines online, the ship began to prepare itself for the journey. Bulkheads were locked, loose items were secured, and crewmembers began to brace themselves.
Without warning, Ulysses shot forward at speeds nearly impossible to comprehend by the human mind. Space was literally warped around them, permitting the kind of speeds necessary for interstellar travel. Ulysses' warp nacelles flared to life for a brief second before dying out just as fast, but not before the ship was already at full warp speed.
Lieutenant Gonzales looked from her console to report to both the captain and the rest of the crew, "Warp three engaged."
"Then our mission has officially begun." Snyder responded. Everyone on the bridge, and possibly the ship, couldn't help but smile.
**********
"Hello, senior staff, to our first meeting for our new mission." Captain Snyder said to the already seated command crew as he walked briskly to his own chair at the end.
Soon after going to warp and locking down all the major systems, Snyder had called for the first meeting of the senior staff. Everyone was there, Ensign Norman, Lieutenant Gonzales, Chief engineer Denning, and someone Snyder had neglected to meet, the ship's resident physician, Doctor Christina Hartford. She was a gracefully aging human woman, with a distinguished look about her and a kind of penetrating stare that could look deep into whoever she saw fit. Not a bad skill for a physician.
Everyone had a PADD displaying all the facts given to Snyder by Starfleet concerning the nature of the mission, the types of missions that would probably be involved, and the types of mission requirements.
After a few seconds of reviewing the facts, Snyder decided to get the ball rolling. "As you're probably aware, we are currently without an executive officer. But don't worry; one of the things we'll be picking up at Starbase Seven is our first officer. His file is loading to your PADDs now."
Snyder looked down to see the face of a nice looking young man of possible Asian ancestry, but that had been long down the family line. "James Malcolm" was the name it listed above the personnel picture.
"Cute kid," the Doctor said.
"I think I saw this guy once while on my old ship," Denning said, staring at the picture intently, "Not a bad commander. He'll make a good Captain one day, but he's too inexperienced." He looked up to see Norman shooting him a deflated look, "Uh, no offense."
"None taken," Norman responded coolly.
Snyder began again, "Also, because of the possibility of a major medical crisis on a planet we may visit, I asked Starfleet to assign us a Doctor's assistant, if you don't mind, Doctor."
"None at all." She said, looking over more mission protocols.
"Good, good. Well, I'd better begin this little shindig by stating our mission profile." Snyder decided to stand up for more emphasis, "Starfleet has decided that it's finally time to bring aid to planets that have been long lost or forgotten because of the Dominion war and other conflicts. We are but the spearhead of the massive operation titled Operation: Recover. Our mission will be to bring whatever first aid we can to the people of a colony in serious need, and then move on."
"Excuse me," Norman asked, "But what do you mean by 'first aid'? Are we going to be cleaning bruises and mending paper cuts?"
"Not at all, ensign. First aid means that we will beam down whatever supplies or goods the people down on the planet we are visiting desperately needs to help in the immediate recovery. Other ships down the line will actually help to rebuild. Our secondary objective is to reestablish contact with the Federation by dropping off subspace communicators to planets that still wish to be part of it. If any others have other wishes, we are ordered to respect that choice, and move on."
"Has Starfleet given us directives on how to deal with hostile rejection?" Norman asked.
Snyder was temporarily stumped by the question. The answer was no , Starfleet hadn't said anything about violence of any kind that might happen over the course of the mission. He guessed they didn't see it as too important.
"I'm sorry, Ensign, but Starfleet has given us no directives."
"That's why they gave us this ship." Norman said indignantly
"What do you mean?" asked Doctor Hartford.
"What I mean is that our offensive capability is close to nothing: just five phaser banks and a pair of photon torpedo launchers. How do they expect us to defend ourselves?"
"Maybe we aren't supposed to." Teased Gonzales.
"I'm serious about this." The Ensign said, holding his PADD over his head for emphasis, "We're about to enter what could very well be considered wild space. Anything could be out here, and with weapons that can barely scratch paint, I don't hold much for survival."
"Your concern has been noted, Ensign," Snyder said before turning toward the center of the table, to address everyone. "Our mission has just begun, and we are already facing some of the inherent problems. I'm sure Starfleet sent us and this ship out for a very good reason, and would not have wasted such huge resources for just laughs back home. We're going to do our job and make sure we do it well." Snyder looked over the command crew one more time before curtly adding "Dismissed."
Everyone but Norman left the briefing room.
"I'm sorry, Ensign if they didn't teach you this at the academy, but 'Dismissed' usually means 'leave'."
"I'm sorry, captain, but I have to warn you about our limited capability in one other category."
"And what is that?"
"Sir, because we are heading into space that can very well hold anything, we may also be looking at the threat of an internal security breach, a stowaway at best, a hostile intruder at worst. And I'm afraid we don't have an adequate security team for the job."
"Any recommendations?"
"None at the moment, sir."
"I'll consider it, Ensign. Now return to your duty station."
"Aye, sir." The Ensign acknowledged and left the room.
Good kid , thought the Captain, thourough, too. He'll make a good officer if he doesn't get so bogged down with worry.
**********
When his duty shift was over, Norman headed back to his quarters, and went directly for the letter from Section 31. Thoughts of Ulysses' gross lack of security deeply troubled him. After all, he was the senior tactical officer. And if the Captain wasn't going to do anything about it, he would just have to take the problem into his own hands.
Snyder was already at his command seat by the time the first crewmembers started to file in one at a time. Snyder had taken only a brief time to go to his quarters to take a quick sonic shower and change into a new uniform before he went back to the bridge. He had already begun to get the feeling for the ship, how it looked, sounded and felt beneath him. He still hadn't checked out his ready room, which was, thankfully, only a short walk from his seat. All in all, Snyder was making himself feel quite at home on this ship. Sure, after spending a few years on a large orbital station, a ship could feel a little cramped, but Snyder was sure he could get used to it.
The turbolift door to Snyder's left opened with a hiss, which startled him for a second. He looked up to see Ensign Norman slowly walking into the bridge, taking in everything he could at a slow pace. His lips were parted in a huge, impish grin only someone so young could accomplish. The ensign stopped only for a moment to look for his console, which, if anything, made him even more excited. Norman walked up to it as if it were a religious altar, slowly and carefully, lest he mar it in some way.
The captain gave the young man a brief moment of indulgence; after all, this was the first starship the boy had probably ever been aboard. Snyder smiled to himself, he had probably acted the exact same way when he first set foot on a ship, maybe even more so.
When Snyder saw that Norman was only sitting at the small bench behind his console, he decided to break the silence, "Are you just going to will your console to life, ensign?"
Norman looked up in surprise. The poor kid probably hadn't seen him sitting in the center seat. "Uh, no, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Don't worry about it. Just make sure you don't accidentally blow us up with a wrong keystroke." The kid froze with a look of absolute horror on his face. Maybe Snyder had crossed some line? He'd better repair the damage fast.
"That was a joke, ensign."
Norman looked up long enough for Snyder to see the horrified look melt into one of uncomfortable humor, which quickly became one of concentration as the tactical console came to life with a faint whine.
"Tactical station reports ready for departure, sir." Norman said as if reading a script for the first time.
"Thank you, ensign." Snyder said just as the turbolift doors opened once again to permit Ulysses' helmsman onto the bridge. Snyder recognized her instantly, Lieutenant Maria Gonzales. She was a woman of relatively short stature, but made up for it in sheer presence. Her radiant disposition, as well as damn good piloting skills, made her somewhat of a much sought-after officer in the fleet. Starfleet needed people more like her every day, if only to lighten a mood still darkened by the horrors of war.
"Good morning, Captain." The lieutenant smiled before heading toward the navigation station just in front of the command seat. Snyder smiled back and offered his own acknowledgment, as well as young Norman.
"Navigation reports ready to depart at Captain's discretion." The officer said with an air of such professionalism that Snyder could only smile at.
"Thank you, navigation."
The other crewmembers filed onto the bridge in short order. Soon, the ops station, sciences, as well as the engineering link were manned by excited crewmembers all ready to begin their new mission.
When Snyder was sure everyone was accounted for, he pushed the button for the shipwide comm., and began to speak.
"All hands, this is the Captain. If you haven't already, report to your duty station, as we are about to depart on our new mission." Snyder thought he could hear the ship itself hum with excitement at those words, as if it were a living being itself. But he was just abandoning himself to flights of the imagination. The ship was just humming with nothing more than normal power fluctuations and regulations; it was the crew that was ready.
"Take us out, Lieutenant Gonzales." Snyder said with a tone much less dignified than what he would have liked, "Once we reach the edge of the solar system, se course for Starbase Seven at warp factor three."
"Aye, sir." Came the response from the nav. Console.
Outside of the hull of the great ships, a few straggling work bees were suddenly caught in a small shockwave as the thrusters of the great ship Ulysses began to slowly move out of its dock. The few umbilical lines that had been transferring fuel and other supplies snapped themselves off the ship just before they would have been pulled away from their housings.
Ulysses surged forward on her own power, slowly gaining speed as her impulse reactors came online, feeding power to the massive sublight engines. When she was clear from spacedock, Ulysses shot forward like a photon torpedo from mars, out toward Jupiter and Saturn at tremendous velocities.
Snyder stared in wonder at the sight before him. Stars at a distance seeming to whiz by, while the huge planets just before him loomed with huge girths, only to slip by as if they had only missed contact by a scant few meters. If anything, Snyder felt...giddy.
"Approaching Sol system boundary, preparing to engage warp." Said Gonzales in her business-like manner.
"Engineering, this is the bridge, are the engines prepared for warp travel?" Snyder asked over the comm.
The voice of Commander Denning replied with a tone of good humor and expectation, "Everything's ready to go, sir. Just give the word."
"Commander Denning, Lieutenant Gonzales, the word is given."
As both people, one on the bridge, one down in engineering, worked in tandem to bring the warp engines online, the ship began to prepare itself for the journey. Bulkheads were locked, loose items were secured, and crewmembers began to brace themselves.
Without warning, Ulysses shot forward at speeds nearly impossible to comprehend by the human mind. Space was literally warped around them, permitting the kind of speeds necessary for interstellar travel. Ulysses' warp nacelles flared to life for a brief second before dying out just as fast, but not before the ship was already at full warp speed.
Lieutenant Gonzales looked from her console to report to both the captain and the rest of the crew, "Warp three engaged."
"Then our mission has officially begun." Snyder responded. Everyone on the bridge, and possibly the ship, couldn't help but smile.
**********
"Hello, senior staff, to our first meeting for our new mission." Captain Snyder said to the already seated command crew as he walked briskly to his own chair at the end.
Soon after going to warp and locking down all the major systems, Snyder had called for the first meeting of the senior staff. Everyone was there, Ensign Norman, Lieutenant Gonzales, Chief engineer Denning, and someone Snyder had neglected to meet, the ship's resident physician, Doctor Christina Hartford. She was a gracefully aging human woman, with a distinguished look about her and a kind of penetrating stare that could look deep into whoever she saw fit. Not a bad skill for a physician.
Everyone had a PADD displaying all the facts given to Snyder by Starfleet concerning the nature of the mission, the types of missions that would probably be involved, and the types of mission requirements.
After a few seconds of reviewing the facts, Snyder decided to get the ball rolling. "As you're probably aware, we are currently without an executive officer. But don't worry; one of the things we'll be picking up at Starbase Seven is our first officer. His file is loading to your PADDs now."
Snyder looked down to see the face of a nice looking young man of possible Asian ancestry, but that had been long down the family line. "James Malcolm" was the name it listed above the personnel picture.
"Cute kid," the Doctor said.
"I think I saw this guy once while on my old ship," Denning said, staring at the picture intently, "Not a bad commander. He'll make a good Captain one day, but he's too inexperienced." He looked up to see Norman shooting him a deflated look, "Uh, no offense."
"None taken," Norman responded coolly.
Snyder began again, "Also, because of the possibility of a major medical crisis on a planet we may visit, I asked Starfleet to assign us a Doctor's assistant, if you don't mind, Doctor."
"None at all." She said, looking over more mission protocols.
"Good, good. Well, I'd better begin this little shindig by stating our mission profile." Snyder decided to stand up for more emphasis, "Starfleet has decided that it's finally time to bring aid to planets that have been long lost or forgotten because of the Dominion war and other conflicts. We are but the spearhead of the massive operation titled Operation: Recover. Our mission will be to bring whatever first aid we can to the people of a colony in serious need, and then move on."
"Excuse me," Norman asked, "But what do you mean by 'first aid'? Are we going to be cleaning bruises and mending paper cuts?"
"Not at all, ensign. First aid means that we will beam down whatever supplies or goods the people down on the planet we are visiting desperately needs to help in the immediate recovery. Other ships down the line will actually help to rebuild. Our secondary objective is to reestablish contact with the Federation by dropping off subspace communicators to planets that still wish to be part of it. If any others have other wishes, we are ordered to respect that choice, and move on."
"Has Starfleet given us directives on how to deal with hostile rejection?" Norman asked.
Snyder was temporarily stumped by the question. The answer was no , Starfleet hadn't said anything about violence of any kind that might happen over the course of the mission. He guessed they didn't see it as too important.
"I'm sorry, Ensign, but Starfleet has given us no directives."
"That's why they gave us this ship." Norman said indignantly
"What do you mean?" asked Doctor Hartford.
"What I mean is that our offensive capability is close to nothing: just five phaser banks and a pair of photon torpedo launchers. How do they expect us to defend ourselves?"
"Maybe we aren't supposed to." Teased Gonzales.
"I'm serious about this." The Ensign said, holding his PADD over his head for emphasis, "We're about to enter what could very well be considered wild space. Anything could be out here, and with weapons that can barely scratch paint, I don't hold much for survival."
"Your concern has been noted, Ensign," Snyder said before turning toward the center of the table, to address everyone. "Our mission has just begun, and we are already facing some of the inherent problems. I'm sure Starfleet sent us and this ship out for a very good reason, and would not have wasted such huge resources for just laughs back home. We're going to do our job and make sure we do it well." Snyder looked over the command crew one more time before curtly adding "Dismissed."
Everyone but Norman left the briefing room.
"I'm sorry, Ensign if they didn't teach you this at the academy, but 'Dismissed' usually means 'leave'."
"I'm sorry, captain, but I have to warn you about our limited capability in one other category."
"And what is that?"
"Sir, because we are heading into space that can very well hold anything, we may also be looking at the threat of an internal security breach, a stowaway at best, a hostile intruder at worst. And I'm afraid we don't have an adequate security team for the job."
"Any recommendations?"
"None at the moment, sir."
"I'll consider it, Ensign. Now return to your duty station."
"Aye, sir." The Ensign acknowledged and left the room.
Good kid , thought the Captain, thourough, too. He'll make a good officer if he doesn't get so bogged down with worry.
**********
When his duty shift was over, Norman headed back to his quarters, and went directly for the letter from Section 31. Thoughts of Ulysses' gross lack of security deeply troubled him. After all, he was the senior tactical officer. And if the Captain wasn't going to do anything about it, he would just have to take the problem into his own hands.